“Why you never bought a house?” I said to Granddad one day on a college school break. He didn’t get offended. Nor did he shift his posture, remote in hand, sitting up watching jeopardy to turn to me on the other end of his full-size bed. Instead, he chuckled. Charles E. Hunnicutt, my maternal granddad…
Mary C. Galley, my 2nd Great-grandma was born one day in January 1865 in Wilmington, North Carolina. She was only months old when the 13th amendment abolished slavery. She wouldn’t have known if she was a black girl born enslaved unless her namesake mother Mary Pearce told her point blank, “You were born free.” Like…
A few weeks after working with Zazeannah Walker for the US Fulbright Scholar seeks Barbadian family Loop article–it was in the pipeline and hadn’t created a buzz yet–I hit a genealogy milestone. I decided to ZR to Mount Standfast and essentially walk around and take pictures of the area where I was aware my Great-Grandma Irene lived.…
When I was seven years old my aunt said to me, “De berry don’ drop too far from de tree.” She saw my puzzled face over her makeshift Caribbean accent. She used that moment, us eating in her backyard, to give me a piece of family history. “You have African roots that go through the…
A maiden name is the difference between uncovering a new family line and being stopped indefinitely. My 2nd Great-grandma, Clifford Lawson’s maiden name had been buried. Although, I had identified her on the United States Federal Censuses from 1900 to 1940 none of them revealed it. Going through Ancestry.com and other sources, the feeling was…
“Grandma Grace is in the middle of my brother’s head,” Aunt Vicki texted then sent the photo. I immediately recognized Granddad Charles, a much younger and vibrant man than I had lived with. But this woman couldn’t be my Great-grandma Grace. She didn’t fit my imagination on the melanin spectrum. She wasn’t dark brown like…
“I was the darkest of my siblings,” Grandma said, “he reminded me everyday how he treated me.” Arlene Allen, is my paternal Grandma, the matriarch of the Allen family. But at this moment, she was the child her father hurt. I doubt I showed shock. My jaw didn’t drop. Nor did my eyes bulge. We…
“Certificates are the best source of information,” Shirley said as she chopped a green pepper. She is my cousin-in-law. More precisely, she is Errol’s wife, who is my third cousin once removed. The kinship may sound distant but we’re bonded in genealogy. “What could a certificate reveal?” I said. I had been tracing family history…
“Your battery is low,” popped up on my laptop’s screen a moment after I discovered the marriage certificate information of my Great-Grandparents – Japheth Trumpet and Irene DePeiza on Ancestry.com. I raced through the living room and kitchen looking for the power cord as I thought this could be the breakthrough I needed. My information…
I’ve been curious about my family tree for sometime. I don’t know when it started. It could have been when my aunt Grace told a story about re-connecting with our family in Saint Vincent. Maybe it was the silence that swept my maternal Granddad’s face when I asked him about his father. Maybe it was…
Rashaunjallen 